Put a Light in the Window
by Lavinia Lavender
Summary: A short story written to be unique in the sense that its theme is simply a couple, in love, who make it. DracoGinny, because the author approves of them and their pink-haired babies. Rock on. -Epilogue now complete and up.
1. introduction

**Author notes:** This was brought into existence by a certain story called _Rising From the Ashes_, by Arabella and Jedi Boadicea. It isn't necessary at all to read that story to read this one. In summary, the ending highly distressed me, and in order to bring peace to my soul, I wrote this. Also, the lyrics of the song at the beginning that I heard helped push the story into being.

**Disclaimers:** Every character, with the exception of Cassandra Woolstone, is Ms. Rowling's. Additional disclaimers are to be found at the end of the last chapter, because they will ruin great plots and elements and things if I put them here. And so.

* * *

**Put a Light in the Window**

_I don't want to tie you down  
__I don't want to break your stride  
__So if you got to go then go  
__And I will be the shadow at your side…_

_So won't you put a light on  
__And put it in your window  
__To let me know you're at home  
__To let me know you're alone  
__Know that I am waiting  
__Always watching…_

Burden Brothers, _Shadow_

Ginny Weasley sat at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione Granger, breaking every fundamental rule that had been made by staring openly and without pretense at the Slytherin table – at Draco Malfoy.

It wasn't as bad for her as it would have been for him. She wasn't in a practical spotlight under her house, and a dimmer one by others. People didn't watch every way her eyes glanced.

Draco's thin hair, which he had allowed to get longer than usual, was on the verge, the very verge of falling into his eyes as he talked with Blaise Zabini on his right and Cassandra Woolstone across and to the right of him. He wasn't as haughty as usual at the moment – Ginny couldn't imagine what they were talking about, and wasn't trying to, but it held his interest, making him even animated. It was probably some sort of debate, Ginny thought vaguely. Blaise shook his head suddenly and raised a finger as he declared some point – whatever it was caught Draco off guard, for he laughed, tilting his head back. Not as loudly or uncontrollably as the other boys she knew did, but it was a real laugh all the same. Ginny felt herself smiling. There was more to him than they saw. He was just a boy, deep down under all the levels of snarkiness and snobbiness….

Dinner was ending. Students were leaving the Great Hall in their small groups, one after another. Draco rose, leading his own group, as always, out. He walked in front, with no one at his side, only Blaise close behind. Ginny continued to follow him with her eyes, turning her head only very slightly and putting her hand up to her temple to at least partly disguise her target.

As he neared her table, without changing his pace at all, his eyes met hers.

Ginny moved her lips – _Tonight_.

Draco's eyes flickered away and down, and there was the slightest movement of his head downward: entirely imperceptible to anyone but her as a nod.

With that assurance, Ginny returned to finishing the last of her supper.

An hour later, she slipped noiselessly up into the prefect study room above the library. The spiral staircase led up from the library itself – if you knew where to find it – to a trapdoor, which Ginny was now carefully shutting and locking beneath her.

Draco was already waiting, sitting on the edge of a small table, his long legs propped against a footstool. The only light was the moonlight coming through the window and charmed skylight. It glinted off his slightly bowed head.

Ginny came toward him, and his head rose by a degree. She could feel his eyes on her.

"You couldn't keep your eyes off me during dinner," Draco said matter-of-factly.

"I couldn't," she acknowledged, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck. "You're too beautiful."

He raised his head completely now, so she could see his smug smile. "Oh, really," he drawled.

"Really."

"You couldn't even distract yourself with Potter?"

She grinned back. "I couldn't."

His smile widened, and he leaned in to meet her kiss.

Some considerable time later, they lay stretched out, side by side, Draco's sheets beneath and over them. His leg was stretched lazily over both of hers, and his hand was on her back.

Ginny was sleepy and very comfortable, but unwilling to close her eyes and stop looking at Draco. "God, I'm going to miss this," she whispered.

Draco's eyes, which had been half-closed, snapped open, and his hand frozen from the pattern it had been tracing on her back. "What do you mean?"

Unwillingly, she closed her eyes. "Darling, you leave Hogwarts in five weeks."

"Six."

Ginny didn't bother arguing. It was really impossible to win an argument with him, and she had learned to let him have the small issues.

"I thought we agreed not to talk about that," he added, still sharp.

Her lips twisted into a smile. Never verbally had they agreed. It had been an understood subject. "We've been ignoring it for over a year and a half. We have to work it out before – it happens."

"We still have time. We don't need to start now."

"We don't know how long it will take to settle it."

Draco rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. She laid a hand on his chest. They were silent for a time.

"I'll miss you next year," Ginny said finally.

His hand moved to find hers on his chest. "We can meet in Hogsmeade."

"And then?" she pressed. "After I leave school too?"

"We'll both be of age."

"The war, Draco."

"Fuck the war," he said, almost cutting her off. "Fuck my father and the Dark Lord and Potter."

She turned her hand over and squeezed his, feeling depressed. He had to face it, and very soon. Ginny took a breath to ensure her voice would be steady. "I don't want – you to leave for the summer, and I never see you again. You leave without coming to sort of finish with this –"

"I don't _want_ this to finish."

"Draco!" She had to stop to get control of her voice again. He turned his head back toward her, watching the emotion on her face. "You're so spoiled," she said at last. "But don't be so selfish, Draco, please. Sort this out with me."

He paused, then spoke slowly. "I want to find a way to keep you."

She gripped his hand, and her other came up to touch his neck and cheek. "Whatever way. Something that will work. As long as we do settle on something."


	2. transition

It was long and stressful. For three weeks they argued and shouted and Ginny cried. But Draco knew the whole time, while he refused to accept it, what it would come to – what the best solution was.

And for the remaining weeks they risked more than they ever had, spending every night they could possibly manage together, clinging to each other with more emotion than they had ever had since the beginning.

Draco's friends agreed amongst themselves that his disappearances and moodiness were preparation for leaving school and joining his father. Ginny's brother and friends were more concerned. She didn't seem able to eat, couldn't pay attention when they tried to tell her about this or that. But she dismissed everyone.

The day they went home, Draco and Ginny walked past each other without a glance. They never saw each other on the train, and got off at different times at the platform.

* * *

Compared to most wars, this war was quite brief. Harry was direct, and Voldemort did not falter. Two years after Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy graduated, the battle was fought, and finished. 


	3. end

Ginny Weasley walked into the large funeral home and took a seat at the very back row. No one noticed her. She spotted him quickly, at the front and to the side of the two caskets, with a clear view of his face and for the next twenty minutes she was absorbed in studying him. He had changed little in physical appearance – even his hair was the same length. But his mask was more firmly in place.

The ceremonies were long and difficult. How do you talk about a Death Eater who nearly broke a record talking to charities? But there were many funerals, and so there was less attention given to diplomacy than there might have been. Draco only blinked a few times.

Ginny followed the entourage to the ceremonial, open-air crematory. She watched Draco lay flowers on both bodies: he placed an equal amount on his father's chest, but he was slower with his mother's, pausing an extra moment with her.

He stepped back, and the magical fires were lit. They burned much quicker than ordinary fires, and as etiquette dictated, most of the mourners left while the flames still burned. But Ginny waited, still at the back, watching Draco as he stood before the pyres, his hands clapped behind him.

When the flames began to die down, he walked away, across the grass. She followed. He stopped a distance from the crematory, and so did she, not behind him but ten feet away to his side, waiting for him to acknowledge her or not.

He did.

Draco turned and walked toward her, close enough to touch her and stopped. For several long minutes they faced each other, silent, eyes locked.

Ginny spoke first. "We've both changed."

He said nothing, letting silence stand for agreement.

"Do you remember…what you said, that one night in those last weeks? You told me to remind you if you didn't remember."

He spoke, his voice quiet and even. "I remember."

She smiled – not a happy smile, but a tired smile that was grateful for a small mercy. Some moments passed, and she looked up at him again. "What do you feel now?"

Draco did not answer. He studied her face for several more seconds, then slowly raised his hand toward her face.

Ginny stopped breathing. Very slowly, his fingertips brushed her cheek, hovered there – and then he pressed his whole palm to her cheek.

They stood there, not aware of time. When Draco dropped his hand, it started again. The question had been answered.

"I burned the manor to the ground," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm moving into my mother's old estate. It's considerably smaller." He hesitated. "Would you like to move in?"

Ginny nodded. "I'll go pack my things now."

"You'll have to floo there the first time. The address in Ebonmark Hall."

"All right."

They waited still, though either knew why. Draco said finally, "I'll see you tonight."

Ginny nodded, quickly collected herself, and disapparated.

* * *

Stepping out of the kitchen of the Burrow, she first saw Ron and Hermione sitting on the sofa, her head leaning against the end of the sofa and her legs over his lap as they talked quietly. They had been married for over a year now, but Ron still hadn't moved out. All the Weasleys – other than Percy – had come home to live in the Burrow for the war. 

"Where'd you go, Ginny?" Ron asked. Hermione turned her head to see her, her eyes flickering over her black robes.

Ginny had learned about lying in her last years at Hogwarts with Draco. Not only how to do it, but what was necessary and what wasn't. Once Draco left, it had been such a relief to not have to constantly lie anymore, she had taken a new policy of absolute, painful honesty. But now the old rules came back, and she made up her mind in a second: it was no long necessary to lie.

"I was at Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's funeral."

Hermione sat up. Ron stared at her, not looking shocked, only baffled. Ginny met his gaze evenly. Eventually, Ron seemed to decide it was something she had to do for closure, and appeared to relax.

"Were they burned?"

Ginny nodded. "Of course."

Hermione was still looking at her, and Ron muttered, "That's fitting."

"Is everyone here?"

"No – Dad and Bill are out. Why?"

She made a slight shrug. "I need to talk to everyone soon. Tell anyone who comes in, all right?"

"All right…."

Ginny went up to her room and began packing. She didn't put in many clothes – even if she took her whole wardrobe, Draco would replace it in short order. Instead, she focused on other things – small presents from her family, pictures, though she had no idea where she would put them in Draco's house. And other memories – letters from her school friends, a locket, a card, a lock of black hair.

An ink-stained ribbon.

She finished when dusk was just starting. She glanced out the window – she needed to hurry since she promised Draco she would be there tonight.

Fortunately, her father and Bill had come home. Unlike the days before the war, everyone managed to come home early, regardless of work.

In short order, everyone was collected together in the living room. Ginny stood before the stairs, her small trunk beside her. She spent several moments looking over her family, memorizing everything. Dad and Bill sitting at the table – Charlie and the twins standing together against the wall – Ron and Hermione standing with hands clasped – Mum sitting in her chair. For the first time in a while, she was struck painfully by Percy's absence. What would his reaction have been to what she was about to say? She could only imagine now.

She loved her family, of course; each one of them. But there had been a turning point in her life that had pulled her sharply away from them; it hadn't happened immediately, only slowly over the years. And now, she felt like she hardly knew them – like she couldn't relate to them.

"Are you going somewhere, Ginny?"

Her mother's voice and anxious face pulled her back. Decisively, Ginny nodded in answer. The anxiety turned to dismay, and she spent a bitter moment appreciating it before she stunned it all to hell. "I'm moving in with Draco Malfoy."

As predicted, no one spoke. She waited patiently.

"_What?"_ Ron was first, naturally. "What did you say?" He took a half-step forward.

He – and everyone else – didn't need repetition. "Draco and I began dating," she began calmly, but part of her laughed at the word. Dating? They had never been on a date - "in my fifth year at school. We continued until he left. I met him again today at his parents' cremation."

They were _still_ gaping at her. It hadn't even begun to sink in. All so incredulous, with the exception of her mother, who looked like she might cry. Ginny hurriedly looked away from her.

She looked around at them again and found she really didn't want to have the discussion that was about to follow – where every one individually argued her sanity, demanded proof of it, and pleaded with her not go. It would take far too long, and Draco was waiting.

Ginny raised her hand, checking all of them. "I have to floo there. I'd like to do it from here, but if I'm going to be delayed, I'll use the fires in Diagon Alley."

"Ginny." Hermione broke apart from Ron, moving in front of him. She was pale, but clearly calmer than anyone else. "I'd like to talk to you outside, just for a moment. Please."

Ginny studied her for a quick moment, then nodded. Levitating her trunk after her, she followed Hermione out the front door. As soon as they crossed the threshold, voices started, but Ginny shut the door firmly behind her.

Light came from the kitchen, in addition to the sky, illuminating both of their faces. Hermione stepped very close, searching Ginny's face.

"You're not stupid," Hermione said quietly.

Ginny broke into a laugh. "No, I'm not stupid."

"And you're not naïve."

The smile faded. "I was naïve once. I learned very well from that experience."

Hermione's eyes searched her still. "Yes, you did."

A moment passed, and Ginny sighed quietly. "You'll see me again, Hermione."

She raised her eyebrows, questioning. "We will?" The emphasis was on the 'we.'

"Yes. I promise."

Another minute passed. "Can I owl you?"

"Yes. But address it to Ginny Malfoy."

Hermione's eyes widened, her look intensifying. "Are you sure?"

Ginny smiled. "Yes. Draco was always very sure on marrying. He wants to change my name."

Hermione almost frowned. Ginny belatedly remembered it was the opposite for her – Hermione had to take on Weasley.

"And address it to Ebonmark Hall."

"Why not the manor?"

"Draco burned it."

"Oh."

"Something he's wanted to do for a long time."

"Oh. I see."

Ginny regarded her. "I really have to go."

"All right. I'll – talk to them after you go."

"Thank you."

They went back in. Ginny kissed each of them while Hermione helped hold Ron back, and quickly she stepped into the fireplace.

Draco was waiting when she stepped out. He stood as she straightened and glanced around the airy parlor. It was simple, soft, and elegant – paintings of landscapes in dark frames.

Draco caught her attention again, and an elf appeared, bowing once to take her trunk.

"I only kept three," he said, following her gaze. "What did you bring?"

"Not much." She let the house-elf take it.

He stepped closer. She looked up into his face. It wasn't as open to her as it had been at Hogwarts, but neither was it as cold as it had been in public earlier today. And she knew how to open it up again.

Draco raised a hand and brushed it against her face again, this time pushing it back into her hair as well. Ginny felt lightheaded.

Everything was very slow that night. Every movement was felt. Their breathing was audible; they felt aware of everything. It was like nothing they had ever experienced before or would experience again.

Afterward, they lay against each other, both at peace with the world at last.

* * *

**Additional disclaimers:** Blaise Zabini is now a boy because of Dahlia, Arabella, and Jedi Boadicea. And, I suppose, Ms. Rowling.

To Liz Barr, the idea of cremating witches and wizards.

To Nita (She's a Star), for the idea of killing off both of Draco's parents.

To Poggy's fanart, Arabella, and Jedi Boadicea for the idea of Draco being close to his mother.

The tribute to Ron/Hermione is dedicated to Gina.


	4. epilogue

**Author notes:** This epilogue is dedicated to a man named Stan Campbell. He was MIA as a prisoner of war in the Vietnam War, and I couldn't stop thinking of him as I wrote parts of this.

* * *

Ginny Malfoy thought to herself that Draco would be pleased – she had progressed in learning how to hide her emotions. Her heart was thumping at a terrible rate, but the view of herself in the mirror across from her looked perfectly composed – hardly recognizable, in fact, when she compared it to what she had seen as a child and young teenager. There was an adult witch in the mirror, sitting straight with her hands folded in her lap, her red hair pulled back very smoothly, wearing a certainly nice set of robes, but nothing flamboyant. She certainly did not want to wear anything that was obviously expensive.

Ginny stood and hoped her smile was warm and did not look aloof as she saw Arthur and Molly Weasley approaching through the panes of glass in the doors.

Her parents looked as though they felt out of place – well, they had never been to this restaurant before, or an equivalent of it. Before they hadn't been able to afford it, not while her mother's cooking was more than adequate, and though they were better off now, they simply weren't used to going to very elegant restaurants.

Their pace slowed when they caught sight of her, but then they came through the doors that swung magically open, and her mother embraced her.

"Oh, Ginny –"

"Hi, Mum."

Molly pulled back to look her in the face, and Ginny winced inside to see how bright her mother's eyes were. She had always been so quick to come to tears….

Arthur stepped up to her now, and she felt a twinge of nervousness again. "Hello, Dad," she said, forcing herself to look him in the face, and he hugged her as well.

Now it felt awkward again. Ginny took a small step back and indicated with a slight wave of her hand the waitress waiting several feet away. "Would you like to get a table now?"

"Oh, yes –"

The waitress led them to a secluded booth. The restaurant had many of them, with curtains on either side if the customers wanted real privacy. Ginny sat across from her parents.

There was more awkward silence as they were left with their menus. As apprehensive as she had been about this meeting, Ginny had prepared a few lines she could use to break the ice, but none of them seemed appropriate now. Finally, it was not her, but her father who spoke.

"I hope that your – er – Draco isn't going to be – upset with your meeting us tonight."

Ginny half-choked on the glass of water she had been drinking, and hastily set it down. "Oh, no – he knows. He wouldn't be upset about this. He's not…" She trailed off, and smiled ironically down at the table. It was time for the part of the conversation she knew would come, The Explanation, and despite how she had also rehearsed this, she still had to search for the right words now.

"It's funny how – when you form a prejudice against someone, it becomes so hard to imagine there's more to them. And I know, I can completely admit that Draco was an utter bastard to Ron and Harry at school, and he deserved a lot of what he got. I'm not going to try to make excuses for what he did – well, not everything, anyway."

Ginny leaned forward now, looking her parents in the eye, imploring them to understand. "I was in fifth year when it started – I was a prefect, and so was Draco, so we had contact through the prefect meetings and other activities…and – well, even before I saw behind the appearance he put on for Gryffindors, I had to admit he was attractive. He was just something pretty to look at, to watch from a distance but never touch. Then one day I overheard him talking to his friends, and I was surprised by how – normal he could be. How he wasn't a hundred percent nasty. He had friends, even, friends who liked him.

"And then one day we were assigned to do a few tutoring sessions for first years. We had to work together…Draco's told me that was the first time he really noticed me. We talked that week, shooting stuff back and forth – I suppose we were practically flirting. Almost, anyway.

"After that, we managed to volunteer to do things together, without anyone quite noticing that we were. We got to know each other a bit more. That was all in the fall. Right before the Christmas holidays, things got more serious – we had both become very interested in each other. There was a moment where he almost kissed me…but Ron called me, and I had to leave.

"And then during the Christmas holidays – you might remember, I got and sent a lot of owls. They were all from Draco, of course.

"Those letters…were sort of a test. It was a sample of what it would be like if we had a relationship – all the secrecy. And that's what we asked each other in the owls – if we wanted to make this a relationship."

Ginny smiled, remembering those cryptic but emotional letters. She had kept hers; he had had to burn his. But he could still quote them to her.

"So we went back to school and began meeting in secret, for the rest of the year and all of the next – until the very end. That was the hardest part. He was leaving, and he couldn't refuse his father. Neither of us wanted to break up, but with what he was almost undoubtedly leaving to do…it wasn't possible. So we agreed to break it off entirely once he left school, until the war was over."

Ginny drew designs in the water around her glass with her finger. Two terrible years…the worst years of her life, when she felt torn and hated herself for it, hated herself because she couldn't stop loving him. When she heard rumors, some true and some not, about what he was doing. Two years of it…there had been so many times when she swore to herself she would not go find him when it was all over, that she would find someone else and erase her memory of what they had had…and there had been nothing, nothing to remind her or encourage her that someday they could reunite and love each other as they once had….

Ginny came back to where she was, and realized she had written Harry's name in the water. Brusquely, she wiped it away.

They decided on their dinners, informed their plates, and the food arrived. There was silence for several minutes as they ate, then Ginny lowered her fork and continued, "After it was over, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to find him, and wasn't sure I wanted to. I didn't know what could have happened to him, how he could have changed. But then I heard about his parents' cremation, and I decided to take a risk and go to that. And I could see him from a distance, and see how he was…so I did, and after everyone else had left I went up to him and asked if he remembered what he had told me before he had left school. He said he did."

She leaned back and looked from her mother to her father. "And that was it. You know the rest."

Molly was looking at her, her expression rather distressed – Ginny could imagine what it was: her mother was upset that she had had to go through all of that alone. Arthur was also frowning slightly in sympathy.

Ginny sighed and ate a few more bites. "It's difficult right now. He's very much scarred. The war hurt both sides, Dad." She rested her elbows on the table and laced her fingers together, pressing her chin to them and more thinking aloud to herself, now. "He doesn't like who he's become. I'm trying to help him all I can…and it matters to him a lot that I still love him now."

"He's kind to you?" Molly asked gently, but as though personally wanting reassurance. Ginny nodded.

"Oh yes. Right now, he's not keen on hurting anyone – me most of all – not even to make himself feel better. And in school – no, he's not as perpetually cruel and sadistic as some people think. When we argued, there were times when he said cruel things, and when he was hurt, he did mean to hurt me back. But it was never anything terrible, he never hit me. And afterward, he was sorry. He wouldn't say it outright –" – Ginny smiled to herself – "but he showed it in his own way."

Arthur now pointed to the ring on her left hand. "So," he said smiling slightly, "when did you get that?"

Overcome for a moment by a feeling of guilt, Ginny instinctively covered it with her right hand, but then held it out to her parents as she turned and dug in her small handbag with her other hand. "Only a few days after I moved in, actually…no one was there, only a priest and one witness, Draco's friend Blaise –" Finding what she was looking for, she slid a photograph across the table to them. Her parents leaned forward together to see it.

She knew what they were seeing – a wide room with windows that almost filled the entire back wall, the curtains pulled away from them so that the early morning light filling the sky was visible. In front of the windows she stood, dressed in relatively simple white robes facing Draco, who wore the same color. They were looking steadily at each other's face, even though the photograph was developed magically. Behind them stood a man in light blue robes, the priest, who was evidently talking, occasionally gesturing with his hand. On Draco's other side stood Blaise Zabini, who matched Draco's white and had a small purple flower pinned to his front.

"Just to get away from the everyday surroundings, we went to France for a honeymoon – just for a couple of weeks. It wasn't anything special, but I think it did Draco some good."

Arthur and Molly peered at the small photo a moment longer, then her father pushed it back to her, with visible reluctance. Ginny shook her head. "No, you can keep it, please. We have copies…."

"Oh, thank you." Her mother picked it up again.

They finished the rest of their dinner in silence. When they were done, the dirty plates evaporated, but their drinks were refilled, as they weren't quite ready to leave yet. Ginny felt that her parents had something else to say or ask, so she waited patiently.

Her mother finally came around to it. "Are you…are you happy with him, Ginny? I don't mean to be repetitive, but –"

"It's all right, Mum." She paused a moment. "Yes, I am. I always have been, from the beginning back in school. I can't really explain why I am so happy with him…I suppose it's love, isn't it? When you're so happy to be with a person, when they don't have any spectacular traits that would make you so happy, but it's just – everything about them you love, for no reason at all. That's the way it is with Draco – in school I loved so much more than his looks, I loved his wit, his sarcasm, his jealousy, his silly pride – even his selfishness, though I would hate it at the same time. But it was part of him, and he wouldn't be him without it, and I wouldn't have changed him for anything…and now, I love him for himself all the more now, though it hurts me to see how he's changed. I wish I could bring him back, the boy he was in school – he was so much more innocent then, in a way." She smiled, suddenly embarrassed at her choice of words to describe him. "But anyway – I do love him, as much as I think I could possibly love anyone, and I know he loves me the same way."

Molly swallowed visibly. She was near to tears again, Ginny realized. "As long as you're in love, Ginny…I couldn't wish more for you."

Sincerely moved, Ginny leaned forward to squeeze her mother's hand. "Thank you, Mum."

Arthur took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Do you think…that Draco feels the same way about you?"

Ginny nodded. "Especially now. He likes having me near. He'll just sit there for hours sometimes, and just watch me, whatever I'm doing. Back in school, oh, he used to get ferociously jealous. No one knew I had a boyfriend, of course, and it would kill him that he couldn't stand up for me in public. So while he can't put it into words…I know. I can tell."

There were several moments of quiet, then Molly let out a small sob, and fished a handkerchief out of her robes.

"Oh, Mum…"

"I'm sorry, Ginny," Molly said, dabbing her eyes, "I do mean what I said, as long as you're happy…but I – always had hopes that you would find a nice boy – not that Draco…but someone who, who we _know_ and your brothers like and can get along with, someone we don't have to worry about his past, someone like, like –"

"Like Harry," said Ginny dully.

Molly cried a little harder, nodding slowly and unhappily. Arthur put his arm around her shoulders. Ginny rubbed her glass in her hands, feeling depressed now as well. When Molly was composed Ginny spoke slowly.

"I think I always loved Harry, in different ways. When I was eleven, I loved him as much as anyone could at that age. But it changed…after the end of my first year. I still loved him, in a small way that hadn't changed, but I wasn't _in_ love with him anymore. I felt –" She swallowed and laced her fingers around the glass, gripping it tightly. "In a lot of ways, I felt empty after – Tom's diary was destroyed. It was like a lot of what made me, was missing, like I had forgotten what I liked and what I hated. And I just couldn't feel the same about Harry anymore. I lost my passion about him – not only him, but everything. It was a long time before I really felt excited, exhilarated by something…it wasn't until Draco, actually, that I felt the strong emotion of really being in love."

Ginny rubbed her forehead, aware that what she was saying was much more than an explanation for her parents. "Loving Draco felt so _right_. I was comfortable, happy like I hadn't been since I was little. I dated Dean Thomas, a dormmate of Harry's for a while, before Draco. And that – it never worked. I always felt like I was trying too hard, like I was somewhere I didn't belong, like I was always faking how I felt. I felt that way a lot, actually, not just around Dean. I just felt like I didn't fit anymore around Harry and Hermione and all the other Gryffindors. But with Draco – I didn't have to worry about any of that. He was on my level. I didn't have to pretend to be someone I wasn't when I was with him."

She opened her eyes and looked back to her parents. "I'm happy now, Mum. I really am. I can't imagine anywhere, or anyone I could be with that would make me happier."

* * *

Ginny walked upstairs to the library, where she knew she would probably find Draco. There he was, sitting on the end of a sofa. He had something in his hands – it was a bracelet of hers, she realized – a simple one, just made out of silver links. In his lap sat a small, open box, and she could see tiny golden ornaments in it. He was holding one now that was shaped like a sparrow, and he had his wand in his left hand. He said an incantation too low for her to hear, and the golden sparrow flashed and glittered, spinning from the small link he held in his fingertips. As soon as it stopped, he lifted it to the bracelet and attached it with his wand. He was making her a charm bracelet. She stopped in the doorway, watching him.

Without looking away from the next charm he picked up from the box, he asked, "How did it go?"

"Well. We talked about love, and you and me, a bit about Tom, and then more about you. I'm glad to see you found a hobby, so I won't tell you that they make those specially."

The next charm glinted, catching her attention away from his face. "This way I won't worry about them being substandard." Draco looked at her at last, lowering the bracelet in his hands. His expression might seem closed to anyone else, but she read in it everything it said.

Ginny walked to him, bent down and kissed his cheek.

* * *

**Final credits:** The mention of the charm bracelet goes to Cassandra Claire. 


End file.
